Disclaimer I don't own Harry Potter. All rights to the characters and universe the story belongs in belong to JK Rowling

Reviews welcome. Any advice to help me improve would be brilliant. I hope you enjoy reading this story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Chapter 9 - Assassin

The atmosphere at Grimmauld Place in the weeks after the secret meeting was tense. The others in the house knew something had happened, what, wasn't quite clear. All they could see was Ginny giving Bill, Tonks and Harry the cold shoulder.

They all knew she was fiery, so when it came to light she was upset with them it wasn't all that much of a surprise initially. Now that it started to fester, they were all worried, Bill and Ginny had always been close so it must have been really bad to cause such a split.

This caused friction between the rest of the Weasleys and Harry and Tonks in particular. There was almost a forced calm around the place, the Weasleys all shot accusatory glances at Harry whenever he was in the room, particularly if he entered one Ginny was already in. Without saying a word she would just get up and leave.

Harry's current problem was that it was bothering him, and he had no idea why. He'd had arguments with Tonks, Kreacher and even Sirius over the years where they had avoided each other for weeks on end. None of those arguments bothered him like the current one though, it was becoming distracting.

To make matters worse, he also hadn't managed to get any closer to the group he was following. They had left a few bodies behind in the muggle world but nothing else, he'd also heard about attacks in the wizarding world, however without help from Ginny he got nowhere near them. By the time he got to any of the sites it was teaming with Aurors, so he dared not approach.

Tonks was trying to help as much as she could from her position as an instructor in the Auror training academy. Unfortunately, any information she received was limited and Malfoy seemed to be keeping a close eye on her.

It was quiet in the kitchen, Harry was alone drinking his morning coffee, reading over the report of any new wills that had been made. He was actively tracking any wills with one benefactor who may be residing in the wizarding world.

A piece of software provided a list of candidates, each one then had to be verified by Harry. On face value it should be easy, however after delving into the records, Harry realised there were more people with few beneficiaries in their will than he initially realised. That's not mentioning that the benefactor had been clever enough to use different identities each time a will was left to them.

He was distracted from his report when the kitchen door opened. 'Morning.' He greeted in what he hoped was a cheery voice.

Ginny just ignored him on her way to the kettle, she tapped her foot impatiently on the floor as it boiled, with her arms crossed. Harry watched her with a small smile tugging at his lips. Her freckles are cute. Harry shook his head slightly. Where the hell did that come from?

She noticed him smiling at her, so she hmphed audibly as she poured her coffee. Once stirred, she slammed the spoon on the side and went to leave the kitchen. Upon reaching the doorway she paused, slumping slightly. 'Can you tell me your secret yet?' She asked without turning around, they were the first words she had spoken to him in weeks.

He rested his head in his hands. 'I'm sorry, I can't.'

'Then I'm sorry I can't help someone who is lying to me.' She sounded apologetic too.

'I'm not actually lying to you, you know.' The words were out before he could stop them. She whirled around with raised eyebrows, clearly asking for an explanation. 'More withholding the truth.' He said awkwardly.

'And why is that any different?' She asked in a dangerous voice.

'Well it's got to be slightly better, at least you know I'm hiding something. If I was lying, I would have just made up any random shit to get you to stay.'

'It's still not good enough.' She said sadly.

'I know.'

Thinking that she would leave after that, Harry returned to the computer screen. He was surprised when she sat down. It was his turn to raise his eyebrows.

'What? Am I not allowed to sit down?'

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly. They sat in silence for a while and Ginny started tapping on her mug. Harry smiled to himself.

'What's funny?' She asked.

'You don't like silence do you?' he said gesturing to the mug.

Ginny shrugged. 'I suppose that comes with living in a house full of older brothers.'

'Must have been nice.' He said genuinely.

'It was, until I got older and they started pulling the older brother acts on anyone I wanted to date.' Harry snorted. 'It took a few well placed hexes to keep them inline.'

'I'm sure that wasn't too much trouble for you.'

'Nah, although I think Bill regrets to this day teaching me the bat bogey hex.'

'Is that why whenever you've been in a room these past few weeks, he makes sure to cover his nose?'

'More than likely.' She said with a grin. 'Either that or he's worried I'll just punch him.' Harry laughed heartily.

'I get the feeling I need to be more careful.'

'Nope, just tell me your secret and you'll be safe and sound.' She said merrily.

Harry sobered up with a frown. 'I…'

'I know. It's fine.' She said placatingly. 'I just hope you can trust me with it one day.'

'So do I.' He admitted under his breath.

She considered him from across the table, biting her bottom lip nervously. 'We never took Teddy flying, are you free on Saturday?'

He felt a twinge of anticipation in his gut which had nothing to do with riding a broomstick. 'Sure, as long as nothing comes up at work.'

She smiled at him. 'Good, how about we go after breakfast then?'

'Sounds good.' He said grinning. As soon as he looked at the next record on his laptop, his grin was replaced by a serious expression. 'Shit I've got to go.' He shut the laptop down, grabbed his keys and all but sprinted out of the kitchen. Leaving a disgruntled Ginny behind.

Following a long journey up to Manchester, Harry entered a bank where a Claire Marshgrave had recently made a will. He covertly asked to speak to the will department manager and was waiting in a small room with an oval table for the manager to arrive.

An old pompous looking gentleman entered the room, his bank uniform meticulously clean, complementing his pruned moustache. Glasses sat on the bridge of his nose with a chain running around the back of his neck, connecting to both ends.

'Mr Potter.' He greeted offering his hand.

Harry took it with a smile, noticing the name badge. 'Mr Burns, thank you for your time.'

'It's no trouble, how can I help?' He settled himself down opposite Harry, clasping his hands together.

'A Miss Marshgrave recently made a will here I need to know who the witness was.'

'I'm sorry Mr Potter unless you have some sort of warrant I cannot disclose that information.'

Harry pulled out his agency badge from his pocket. 'This should do.' There was a flash of recognition in Burns' eyes. 'I want to see the security footage from the meeting as well.'

'Very well Mr Potter, follow me.' They exited the meeting room and Harry followed Burns into a large security office. 'You can use this computer.' Burns steered him to the appropriate desk. 'I'll just get the files up for you.'

Burns logged into the computer and searched through the logs until he found the appropriate file. 'Everything you need should be in there. For the security footage, they were in meeting room six, the backup tapes are over there.' He gestured to a large cabinet. 'Please use whatever you need, any questions just ask.'

Harry thanked him before turning his attention to the file in question. The woman who made the will matched the profile of the other victims, wealthy, with an unfortunate lack of close friends and family to leave anything to.

She lived in a penthouse suite in the middle of Manchester near Piccadilly station. By the look of her statements there was a steady stream of income as a director of a local business, not that she really needed it.

The witness box had been signed by a Barnaby Belreaper, not recognising the name, Harry moved on to the security tapes. After fast forwarding through to the meeting, he watched as the rather attractive Miss Marshgrave entered the room with another figure.

Looking closely Harry noticed that there was something not quite right with the man's face, there barely a mark or blemish on it. It was too perfect. That's got to be a glamour. He downloaded a copy of the file and a still from the film that clearly showed Belreaper's face.

Deciding to stay in the city, Harry checked into a local hotel. The room itself was simple, containing the bare essentials, a bed, bathroom with a shower and a small writing desk.

Opening the laptop screen on the desk he used his mobile to ring HQ. After the usual security check he was passed through to Clarke.

'Potter. What have you got?' Barked Clarke.

'I need to know any hotel or restaurant bookings under the name Marshgrave or Belreaper in the Manchester area.'

'Anything else?'

'Yeah constant facial recognition on the CCTV feed on Claire Marshgrave's penthouse suite in Manchester and her company offices.' He informed her. 'I'm emailing you the pictures of the man I'm after now.'

'Got it.' She confirmed. 'How did you find them?'

'Miss Marshgrave's will changed benefactors from distant cousins to Mr Belreaper. It's just a hunch though, could be nothing.'

'Make sure Potter. Don't kill him unless you're certain, even then try to get something out of him first.' Clarke ordered.

'I'll try.' Promised Harry.

'What are you going to do now?'

'I've just booked into a small hotel near the Penthouse, I'm going to scout out the building.'

'Very well. Stay in contact Potter, we'll let you know if we find anything.' She said before putting the phone down.

Stretching, Harry moved over to the window to let some fresh air in. Unfortunately, it was a safety window that only opened a fraction of an inch, bemoaning his luck he rasped his knuckles against the sill.

The streets were still ram packed with people scurrying about on their own errands, whether that be returning home from work or taking the dog for a walk to the local beer garden.

Harry whittled away the remaining hours of daylight researching the blueprints for the penthouse and office of Marsh Marketing (MM for short). In itself the office seemed like an unlikely place for an assassination attempt, it was open plan, and situated above an Indian restaurant so there was little chance of going undetected.

On the other hand, the Penthouse was a completely different matter. Clarke had the whole top floor to herself with her own private elevator. Allowing her, or anyone else, to come and go from her apartment as they please.

The CCTV coverage of the elevator was poor, the access was too dark to see who was actually in the lift. That meant they would only know who was entering the apartment when they were already inside. That won't give me a lot of time.

Finally, the sun had finished descending leaving the streets wrapped in the glow from the streetlamps. Taking the opportunity near darkness would offer him, Harry left the hotel to get a closer look at the penthouse.

Even without the sun beating down upon them, the air was still warm, leaving the streets busier than usual for the hour. Approaching the building from the rear, where the private elevator stood, he spotted someone enter the lift. He could only make out their silhouette though, so he had no idea who it was.

Harry had always prided himself on his instincts though, and seeing the figure caused a heavy weight to settle in his gut. It was Belreaper, he was sure of it. As such he was already sprinting up the fire escape when his pocket vibrated, ignoring the message, Harry pounded up the stairs two or three at a time.

Thankfully the building was only three stories rather than a high-rise block of flats, when he reached the top floor, he climbed over the railing balancing precariously on the edge. There was a ledge he could just about jump to which would lead him to an open window.

Pausing to catch his breath, Harry held onto the railing before launching himself across the gap. After vaulting through the air, he just managed to get two hands to ledge, in the darkness though he couldn't quite make out what he was leaping to.

On landing his right hand slipped from the edge as it dislodged a loose brick from wall, leaving Harry dangling precariously. 'Bollocks.' He swore under his breath as he heard the brick smash against the ground.

Grunting, Harry hauled himself up so that he was standing on the ledge, then shimmied his way over to the open window. After checking no one was nearby, he pushed the window open fully and climbed inside.

He was at the end of a corridor, on the far end he could see the private elevator entrance, and there were a number of rooms leading off on either side. The magnolia walls were littered with a variety of photos and artworks.

As he started to move forward there was another vibration from his pocket, he pulled out his phone and read the message.

"Second door on your right" was all it said.

Cautiously he made his way to the door, stopping with his hand rested on the handle, he could hear muffled voices on the other side. He pulled his gun from its holster on the back of his belt and waited.

1, 2, 3! On his silent count he burst into the room, Marshgrave screamed seeing the gun, whilst Belreaper pulled out his wand. Harry dived to his right avoiding the killing curse which bounced off the door frame, igniting it.

Pushing himself off the ground Harry launched himself at the man as he raised his wand again, this time pointing it at Marshgrave. She was too busy concentrating on Harry to see where Belreaper's attention now lay.

'Get down!' Too late was Harry's shout, a jet of green light hit her in the stomach, and she collapsed dead from her chair. Without waiting Belreaper turned on the spot to disapparate just as Harry got hold of his cloak.

Harry felt the now unfamiliar feeling of apparation, the sensation was similar to being pushed through a small tube you were too big to fit through. Just as all the air had been squeezed out of his lungs, he landed heavily on his back, smacking his head off the tiled surface.

In the surprise of such a heavy landing Belreaper dropped his wand. Instinctively he pulled a sharp knife from his belt which he drove downwards towards Harry's chest.

Despite the dizziness, Harry had just enough awareness to block the attack inches above his chest, by grabbing hold of Belreaper's wrist. The red faced Belreaper threw his second hand and all his weight onto the hilt of the blade, causing the tip to sink towards Harry's heart.

Groaning from the strain, Harry twisted the knife causing Belreaper to be launched over the top of him. They both scrambled to their feet, Belreaper swinging wildly with the knife, stepping backwards Harry dodged and blocked all of the incoming attacks until his back hit a wall.

Sensing an advantage, Belreaper lunged forwards. Harry sidestepped the knife and used his foes momentum to slam his head against the wall. Dazed from the impact, Belreaper stumbled to the floor dropping the knife as he went, blood was pouring out of his forehead from a cut just above his right eye.

Picking up the knife, Harry knelt down before the man, pressing the tip of the blade under his chin.

'Who are you working for?' He asked through ragged breath.

'Harry Potter.' The man responded dazedly.

'I know you're not working for Harry Potter, who are you really working for?'

'Well he goes by Harry Potter. Looks like him to.'

'Where do you meet him?'

'I don't he finds me.' A wicked gleam suddenly lit in the man's eye and he swung his arm up, his fingers grasped around his wand. 'Avada…'

Before he could finish the spell Harry plunged the knife into Belreaper's neck. He gurgled on the blood filling his mouth before slumping, limp.

Sighing, Harry removed the knife from his neck and plucked the wand from the man's grip. After searching Belreaper's pockets and finding nothing, Harry looked at his surroundings for the first time.

He was stood in an empty alleyway, with the only source of light coming from the stars above. Moving away from the sound of a road at one end, Harry made his way to what he guessed was the rear side of the alley.

After taking a slight turn it opened out into a carpark for a small block of flats, with a gated entrance. All the flats he could see had lights on apart from one. I Wonder who's that is then?

He moved into the building, which had been left unlocked, through the corridors and up to the flat which had no lights turned on. Checking that he was right he knocked on the door first, recieving no reply, he pulled out a small tool from his pocket which he used to pick the lock.

Upon hearing the satisfying click of the lock opening, he opened the door. The flat was tidy to a military standard, nothing was out of place and there was not so much as a dirty spoon on the side of the kitchen sink.

After a quick look around the conjoined living and kitchen area he moved further into the flat, beginning to think he was in the wrong place when he spotted a newsletter on the bed side table.

It was a copy of the Daily Profit. Gotcha. Harry thought to himself, quickly scanning the headlines for any useful information. As usual the paper didn't seem to have any to offer.

Digging through the drawers in the cabinet he fished out his mobile to call the emergency number at work.

'Hello, how may I hello you?'

'Code 5263725225, there's a body in the alleyway near the flats I'm in, I need the death to be kept quiet. Can you trace me through the phone?'

'We'll send a team around now to deal with the clean up.'

'Thanks.' He said before putting the phone away. He was at the last draw when he pulled out a red battered diary. There were scribbles of various meetings on all of the pages, some were marked with asterisks, others with a Galleon sign, and others with a scythe.

Frowning Harry turned to todays date. All that was in the entry was a scythe and two sets of initials. "MC" and "MPHPS". Shit this is how he has been keeping up with everything. Why keep a diary though?

Shrugging, he pocketed it for later inspection. There were more important matters to take care of, for example finding out exactly where he was. He walked back to the kitchen and in the draw underneath the cutlery he found a bill with the occupants name and address.

Apparently Belreaper's real name was Sid Mitroglou, the address was in London, not too far away from the bureau. Finding nothing further of interest in the flat, he left, locking the door behind him using a spare key he had found.

'So, what do you have to report Potter?' Asked Clarke the next day. Harry had just entered her office after collecting his car from Manchester.

'I'm getting closer, I think I have a list of their planned activities, I'll have to find a way to decode it though.'

'Do you think they might change things if they realise Mitroglou is missing?'

'I don't think so, they would know if it was Aurors – they're sort of the equivalent of a wizarding anti-terrorist unit.' He explained when Clarke looked blankly at him.

'Anyway, they would know if Aurors had taken him, so I'm assuming they will think Muggles got to him, which they would be half right about. Hopefully that gives us an advantage.'

'Excellent. So, what's the next step?' Asked Clarke.

'Keep following the trail, if I can get hold of one for long enough I might be able to squeeze out of them who they are really working for.'

Clarke leaned forward on her desk looking at him intently. 'That raises another question, why are they claiming to be you?'

Harry grimaced. 'Let's just say I'm a bit of a fallen angel in their world, now they seem intent on dragging me back into it.'

'Why's that?' She asked curiously.

Harry dropped gaze to the tabletop while he answered, mentally counting the knots in the wood. 'There was a was a war not long before I joined the Bureau. I fought in it, a lot of people looked up to me as some kind of saviour, when I was just a kid without a clue.

'We won the war and in the end I played a big part in it, I lost almost all my family though and I couldn't deal with it, so I ran away. When I was brought back, the Ministry blamed a number of things on me and pinned me as the next terrorist threat.'

'They must have had a reason for that.' Said Clarke sharply.

Harry smiled ruefully. 'If I had been let anywhere near the Aurors, I would have torn their government apart, many of the hierarchy are old followers of an evil man called Tom Riddle. I would have had the backing of the public too, and they didn't want me to take what remaining power they had.'

'So, these attacks, you think it's actually their government?' She asked shocked.

'Yes, I need to prove it though, I need to find the link.'

'What's the reason though? Why attack your own people?'

'Racism.' Said Harry bluntly. 'If they can publicly frame someone else for the attack, they will almost be able to pull off something similar to the holocaust.'

'Holy shit, surely people see through that?!'

'Why would they? It's been over ten years since the war ended. Up until now everyone who works in the government, who had a link to Tom Riddle, has been the model citizen. Helping to put away others who managed to escape after the war. They have systematically hunted down anyone they used to fight alongside who is now surplus to requirements.'

Looking back up from the table Harry locked his eyes with Clarke's. 'A lot of the wizarding world think they are heroes. They won't even see it coming.'